


Just...No

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [32]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Kate walked in on Clint and didn't want to know and the one time she actually asked what was going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just...No

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my tumblr - I had forgotten I even wrote this.

1.

Kate tried the doorknob - unlocked. Surprise, surprise. 

“How many times-” she started to ask as she entered Clint’s apartment, only to stop when she found Clint hanging upside down from the loft, tangled in...a net?

“Hey, Katie,” Clint said with a sheepish little wave. “So, funny story-”

Kate held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Let’s just get you down before all the blood rushing to your head causes your brain to explode.”

 

2.

Clint was naked.

This wasn’t the first time Kate had walked in on him naked. It was, however, the first time she’d walked in him naked and orange. Orange  _everywhere_. Orange in a way that was obviously not a spray tan session gone wrong.

“I’m just going to go out and come back in again. Please put some clothes on.”

Clint opened his mouth.

“No. This isn’t why I’m here, so just...no. I call do over.” Kate stepped back into the hallway, pulling the door closed again.

 

3.

Kate heard a series of crashes and thuds as she approached Clint’s apartment. She eased the door open, just enough to see broken furniture and nothing else. Another thud, and now Kate could hear a pained grunt. She kicked the door open all the way and jumped through, taking up a fighting stance. 

Two people were rolling around on the floor - Kate recognized Natasha, mostly by her hair. The man wasn’t familiar, but he was wearing a ridiculous yellow jumpsuit - that alone was enough to put him in ‘villain’ category, even without Natasha kicking his ass.

Clint was leaning against the kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal as he watched the fight. There was a crunch and he winced. “I liked that table,” he muttered. “Hey, Katie-Kate.”

Kate looked between him and the brawling pair. Natasha had the man’s head squeezed between her thighs. “I’ll come back later,” she said and then turned on her heel and strode out the door.

 

4.

The apartment smelled like beef stew. Clint was sitting slumped in the middle of the floor, covered in brown goo. Lucky was licking his face vigorously, almost knocking Clint over in his eagerness.

“I-” Kate began. “Should he be eating that?”

Clint lifted his head. A glob of goo slid out of his hair and plopped on the floor. “It won’t hurt him. It’s-”

“You know what, I don’t need to know. Shower time.”

“Aw, Kate.”

“March!”

Clint climbed to his feet slowly and shuffled to the bathroom. Lucky followed behind him, frantically cleaning the mess he trailed behind him.

 

5.

Kate let herself in, holding the garment bag up high so it wouldn’t drag on the floor.

“Clint, I picked up your dry-cleaning like you asked. Since when do you…” She trailed off at the sight of the island in the kitchen set for dinner for two, complete with fancy plates and silverware, and even a couple of candles.

“Thanks, Katie-Kate,” Clint said as he jogged down the stairs from his loft. He took the garment bag from her and unzipped it, revealing a tuxedo. “Classy, right?”

“Classy,” Kate repeated in a faint voice. She looked around at the apartment and again at the dinner laid out for two. “You’re having a fancy dinner date? Here?”

“Yeah?”

“Why- Who- No, you know what? Good luck with that. Gotta go.”

“Later, Hawkeye.”

 

+1

Kate walked up to Clint’s door, taking a moment to prepare herself mentally before reaching for the doorknob. She never knew what to expect, only that she should expect something.

The door was locked.

She stared at it, then dug through her purse to find the key she seldom had to use. As soon as the door was unlocked, she pushed it open.

The apartment was dark, lit only by the streetlights shining through the window and the glow of the television screen. A movie was playing, but there was no accompanying sound. She walked inside, searching the shadows intently as she moved.

Clint was on the couch, sprawled on top of…Agent Coulson? They were both asleep.

“Huh.” It just slipped out, but it was really the only appropriate response. Although now that she thought about it… “Huh?”

Clint flailed upright, lost his balance, and ended up on the floor. “What?”

“I’m a little confused right now, and I think I deserve an explanation.”

Agent Coulson sat up slowly. “An explanation for what, Miss Bishop?”

“Clint’s door was locked, which usually means things are Avengers-level messed up, but all I find is the two of you sleeping. What’s going on?”

“Date night, of course. We didn’t want any interruptions.” Clint hoisted himself back onto the couch and slung an arm over Agent Coulson’s shoulders.

“Date night? You mean that fancy dinner actually worked?”

“Hey, Phil’s a classy guy.”

This was exactly why she never asked Clint any questions - even his most straight-forward answers left her scrambling to make sense of his life. Better to just let things go - she had enough going on in her own life.


End file.
